


breeding lilacs (out of the dry land)

by JoanofArc



Series: darejones [7]
Category: Captain Marvel (Marvel Comics), Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, an au where jess and carol's friendship is canon in the shows too because its so important to me, because fuck canon I do what I want, idk her, or like, this is some weird mix of comic canon & nmcu, trish walker who?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 14:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17851100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoanofArc/pseuds/JoanofArc
Summary: over the years, they've seen each other bleed. over the years, they've seen each other damaged and hurting and terrified. kilgrave has come and gone, a fata morgana, a nightmare.carol wonders, briefly, if jessica has ever woken up from it.(or, carol is a good friend, jessica is a mess, and matt is trying his best.)





	breeding lilacs (out of the dry land)

**Author's Note:**

> so this started as a plot bunny that was meant to be a (funny, inconspicuous) drabble about carol finding out about jess and matt, but evolved a lot past that.
> 
> for those who have not read the comics - jess and scott have dated for a while after carol gave him jessica's number. there's also a comic where jess marries captain america. and yes, carol did throw kilgrave's body into the sun, something i will never forgive marvel for not including into the nmcu canon. 
> 
> jess and carol would absolutely fail the bechdel test, but there's some subtle feelsy angst threaded through, so i hope you'll enjoy it anyway <3

"scott lang?" she asks, and watches jessica's face contort into a frown. it's not even the pretty kind, but rather, bordering on a full blown glare - carol has spent enough time under that glare to grow desensitised.

"ant man? are you fucking with me?"

"ant man. c'mon, jess, i told him you'd -"

"nope. not doing it. i don't need to actually try something out to know someone's overcompensating. dude's called ant man, danvers."

she shouldn't laugh. she really shouldn't. scott's a good guy, but jessica does a full body shudder, and carol can't really help the snort. the mother two tables over throws them an unimpressed glare. whatever, she's saved the earth, she can laugh at a dick joke. 

"what about steve?" she asks instead, bringing her coffee to her lips, one eyebrow raised.

"steve, as in steve rogers?"

"yup, that's the one. how many steves that are our mutual acquaintances do you know?"

thing is, she knows jess well enough to know the snort of apparent disgust is disgenuine, despite it being so very well rehearsed. it's this game they play, and if she's being entirely honest with herself, which she is trying to be, this is a little payback for last week when jess and jessie drew ganged on her and made her that dating profile.

"i'm not gonna fuck america's golden boy." 

the mother glares again, and carol laughs, because yeah, that's pushing it a little. 

but this feels good - simply _being,_ gossiping with her best friend because, for once, she doesn't have to save the world from the threat of invasion. it's the kind of normalcy people like them have to cling to, the little things nobody tells you you'll miss when you decide to take the superhero mantle. 

sometimes, she thinks jessica had the right idea in mind when she decided to hang up the suit and pursue a less exciting career. that, or she's just very good at pretending the hero business isn't her business still. 

"c'mon, jess, he'd take you on dates! buy you flowers! just imagine how cute your kids will be. that dude's... well, you've seen him." she's trying her best to keep a straight face, but jessica knocks the sole of her boot against her leg under the table, and she breaks. 

yeah. this feels good. 

"if you want little blonde babies maybe you should do it yourself."

"no, no, we've talked about it." carol tries to get her laughter under control, but it permeates her voice, this bright feeling in her chest. it's all pretend, really, making up pretentious scenarios and acting like they're simply two normal women discussing their love life. fake it till you make it. "i'm gonna be the aunt to all of your kids, once you start popping them out. and they're gonna love me the most because i let them have cookies when mommy is mean."

jess rolls her eyes again, nudging her foot against hers again, a little harsher this time. 

"keep dreaming, carol. and besides," she says, her eyes taking on a dangerous glint as she stands, downing her impossibly sweet coffee and slapping a few dollar bills on the table, "maybe i'm already sleeping with someone." 

carol gasps, all dramatic flair, but jessica is already walking out of the door before she can ask who it is. she chuckles into her coffee, sending an half-assed apologetic look to the table next to theirs.

*

"tell me it isn't luke cage. dude's a cape chaser." 

they're sitting cross-legged on the floor, cartons of indian takeout in their lap, pictures covering every flat surface. carol is moving her loaded fork through the air for emphasis, wiggling her eyebrows when jessica snorts, almost chokes on her bite.

"i mean it! the grapevine knows everything. he slept with she-hulk, jess! tigra! he's a menace. if you've got powers, you're on his hit list."

jessica's glare turns unimpressed, but she sees the way her lips are fighting against a smile, so she counts it as a win in her book, despite the fact that this time she did choke on her food. 

"it's not luke," comes the reply, once jessica is done coughing. "can we focus, danvers? there's a maniac on the loose and i've just come back from being kidnapped."

ah yes, carol concedes. even if jessica has forsaken the hero life, the hero life seems to still cling on to her tooth and nail. she supposes they don't really have a way out, not alive. the alternative is too grim to consider.

"right - sorry, sorry."

she takes another look at the pictures scattered all over the floor, but she doesn't recognise anyone. the crime scene is an ever evolving system, and powered people don't always choose to fight the good fight. "so. three women dead, a nasty bullet wound and no bullet, and a disembodied voice. that's what we have, right?"

it's not a lot. it's not even enough to build a proper case on. 

from the corner of her eyes, carol sees jessica wince as she moves, the flash of pain passing over her face only momentarily. but she knows it's more than that.

over the years, they've seen each other bleed. over the years, they've seen each other damaged and hurting and terrified. kilgrave has come and gone, a fata morgana, a nightmare. 

carol wonders, briefly, if jessica has ever woken up from it. 

so they cling to the little things. coffeshop girl dates and talking about trivial things and her head in jessica's lap because sometimes, just sometimes, being a superhero is daunting. 

"jess, are you sure you don't want that looked at?"

jessica frowns at the photo she's holding, then at the wound in her thigh. it's not bleeding, or, at least, it's not bleeding through her jeans.

"matt already cleaned it up." conversation. idle. but carol is an expert in jessica jones speech to be able to sense the nuances, knows there's more to it than what she lets on. 

"matt?"

for a split second, jessica flushes, and carol would grin if not for the glare she receives. instead, she holds up her hands, palms upturned, shrugs her shoulders.

"look, danvers, are we going to focus on this bullshit or not?" there's something cutting in the tone of her voice, like switchblades and whiskey and, was carol anyone else, she would have flinched back. but she's not, so she smirks, leans over to steal a bite from jessica's food.

"whatever you say, jones. but don't think I'm going to let this go."

*

they catch the bad guys. they save the day. jessica maintains that she's no superhero and carol goes on another mission and the subject of mysterious guys patching her best friend up is dropped altogether. 

it's self preservation, in a way. sometimes it's easy to pretend that they're normal, but they're not. they've never been. and so secrets are fashioned out of the mundane, and life goes on. 

scott asks her about jessica but carol shakes her head, and that's that.

"she's not really the dating type." she says, while avoiding the missile this week's supervillain is directing at her, pretends not to see the way his face falls for a moment before he schools his expression back to neutral. 

it's not really a lie. 

it's not really the full truth either, but this is not her story to tell.

it's two weeks later when there's a knock on her door. at two in the morning, she's not expecting anyone, so she huffs, slides out of the bed. 

jessica is a mess. she's seen jessica be a mess enough times to lose count, but there is something different in the way she holds herself. something not quite right. 

which, all things considered, should be expected. jessica is an amalgam of things not quite right, a mess of contradictions, but not like this. 

she reeks of alcohol, and she's barely holding herself straight, but her eyes are wide and puffy as they dart around the hall, as if waiting for something to jump her from the shadows. 

"c'mon, babe, let's get you in."

an arm around her shoulders, the trek to the couch is short. she leaves her there, staring into space, after making sure she's not wounded and won't bleed all over her floor, and goes to make some tea.

it's mechanical, the process, but it gives her enough time to listen in to jessica's shallow breaths and barely concealed sniffles. it's one of those days, then. 

but, carol supposes, isn't this part of normalcy too? distress. pain. holding your drunk friend after a bad night. 

(except... except normal people don't flinch back at the colour purple. normal people don't live their life in paranoia, despite the fact that their abuser is dead and gone, because he got thrown into the sun and can't come back, ever. normal people can't do what they do, either, but that's a given. protectors. heroes. when does it end?) 

"he said -" jessica pauses to wipe at her nose with the back of her hand. carol settles on the couch next to her, looking into her tea and not at the way her shoulders shake ever so slightly.

"take your time." she says, after five more minutes of silence, and that snaps jessica out of her trance. 

"he's so fucking dumb. he - he died, carol. in midland, you know?"

she does know, vaguely. something about undead ninjas and a plot to take new york. she hadn't been earthbound at the time, but she's seen the aftermath. she's seen jessica after, even if she wouldn't speak about what happened. she's not really sure if the person she's talking about is the same as the one who patched jessica's wound, but judging by the amount of anguish his death had causes, it's as good of a guess as any. 

"and then he comes back and... and he tells me it's not my fucking fault that a building fell on him." 

carol's opinion on the man only seems to get better. 

"it's not. jess - hey, look at me. it's not."

guilt is a tricky thing. it consumes. it devours. she sees it in the mirror whenever she dares to look too closely. 

"but it is!" snapped out, venomous. brows eyes flit to carol's, a storm within them, and then she deflates, softens, shoulders sagging. "it... it is. we were... we were in there. fucking assholes crawling everywhere like roaches. and i had - i had to hold the elevator cable because this bitch cut it off. this fucking bitch he was willing to stay behind for. but i... i had to let it go, carol. i sealed him in."

carol sighs. considers. when jessica is like this, it's like walking on thin ice.

"so it's about this, then? you're angry that he's not actually dead and that you can't keep being sorry for yourself? shouldn't you be happy he's _alive?"_

so, okay. acknowledging that a situation is delicate does not always mean knowing how to be delicate in said situation. sue her. it's past midnight, and jessica won't listen to reason anyway.

it does the trick. hurt flashes across her face, then anger, but then it settles into realisation.

"you fucking suck." she mutters, but leans over to rest her forehead against carol's shoulder. "you're supposed to tell me i'm a horrible person and that i don't deserve forgiveness."

"you know that's not true, jess. you know i don't believe that." 

"isn't it?"

"no."

"i killed people, carol. murdered them. i -" 

"did what you had to do." there's a finality in the tone of her voice. she pushes jessica back with a gentle hand on the shoulder, so they can look into each other's eyes. beneath the glaze of alcohol, there is so much turmoil it makes her heart hurt.

"okay? you did what you had to do, jess. but you're not a murderer. and you didn't get your friend killed. not everything is your fault, you know?"

and that's the big lesson, isn't it? that responsibly doesn't lie just on their shoulders. that one person alone cannot possibly fix all the bad things in the world, no matter how powerful they are. it's a struggle - maybe it's always going to be a struggle.

but jessica searches her gaze and she must have found everything that she was looking for, because her shoulders relax, and then she collapses against carol's side with a sigh.

"i think i like him."

the confessive nature of the whisper would have startled her, but carol thinks this is more of a revelation for jessica herself than it is for her. so she tries to diffuse the bomb before it explodes, "who, this mystery guy you turned down captain america for?"

jessica heaves out a tired laugh, linking their fingers together. and suddenly this is not about life and death anymore. it's not about guilt. 

"shut the fuck up. i'm crashing on your couch."

*

she meets the mystery guy after another two months. jessica had been elusive after their last conversation, only dropping hints here and there. apparently, he's a lawyer. apparently, he brings her flowers sometimes. it's little things with little consistency, because she can't actually search new york for 'matt, the lawyer who likes flowers and knows how to sew shut a bullet wound.'

she's making her way to jessica's apartment slash office, the invitation to get some takeout and watch some dumb movie on her tongue, when the door opens and out he goes. 

in the background, she hears jess laugh as she shouts something after him. then he turns to carol. 

nice jawline. the suit does good things to his frame, and his lips still hold the ghost of a smile. conventionally handsome, if carol's standards are to be considered the convention. 

and he's blind. 

"you're matt," she says, in lieu to anything better. if he's pretending to notice her there only now, he does a good job of it, looking just the appropriate amount of startled, and his smile, now renewed, is directed somewhere over her left shoulder.

"ah - yeah. yes i am." nice voice, too. he reaches over for a handshake, and she meets him halfway through. its firm, but warm. his hands are rougher than she expected. "matthew murdock. and you are...?"

"carol. carol danvers."

realisation flashes over his face, and his smile turns softer, less professional. both of his hands are resting over the cane in his grasp. 

"the best friend. jess told me about you. you were going in?"

she wants to press more. to ask exactly what jessica has told him when all she got were morsels of information, but she knows his name now. and she's pretty sure jessica will have her head if she does this in her hallway.

"yeah. is she decent?"

he flushed a pretty pink, and she smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. definitely the matt she was thinking of, then. 

"is she ever?" that gets him a laugh, which he echoes, tapping his cane on the floor and starting to walk. "but yeah. i mean, can't really tell, but i very much doubt you're going to find her in any compromising positions. no promises, though."

he has a nice ass too, carol concedes, watching him walk away for a moment, before pushing the door open.

 "don't fucking start," is the first thing she hears, muffled by distance as jessica comes into the room, hair still damp from a shower and a t-shirt much too large for her hanging from her frame.

"he has a nice ass," carol repeats, out loud, which means they are laughing like idiots for a couple minutes.

"that's not the only big thing about him, you know," if the meaning was previously unclear, which it was not, the wiggle of eyebrows drives it home. 

"eww, gross, i don't want to imagine it!"

"you started it! and besides, you're trying to tell me you've never imagined me naked?"

"definitely not." a wrinkle of her nose, as she lets her body fall on the couch. jessica, as predicted, chooses to sit cross legged on her desk. "you're like a sister to me, jess."

something flashes across her face, like pain and surprise and awe all mixed together in a cocktail that makes carol sick to the stomach. people shouldn't be surprised others care about them. but then it's gone, and she's smiling that teasing smile which means she's gonna say something.

"is this when i tell you i love you too and we hold hands?"

"yeah," carol quips, just to get jessica to roll her eyes. "so. mystery guy not so mysterious anymore. i'm proud of you, dating nice guys for once."

"i'm not dating anyone." 

"sure. just like you're totally not wearing a man's shirt after you obviously had sex."

jessica narrows her eyes, reaching across the desk to ball up a piece of paper and throw it at carol, who bat's it away with a laugh. 

"jess, i know you. you can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me. you told me he brings you flowers. he makes you laugh. you've been happier than i've ever seen you lately, and the only thing that's changed is the introduction of one matthew murdock into your life. i might not be a pi -" jessica rolls her eyes, but bites her tongue at the admonishment of carol's glare. "- i might not be a pi, but i'm not blind."

"yeah, that makes two of us."

she knows what jessica is doing. deflecting with humour, because the threat of emotions leaves her uncomfortable. she sighs, shifting on the couch so she can rest her elbows on her knees. 

"being happy is not a bad thing, jess. what are you scared of?" 

for a moment, there's silence. carol watches the muscle in jessica's jaw twitch, the way her eyebrows furrow as she considers whether or not to lay out her fears like that. it's always hard, but carol is patient. she's always going to be patient. 

"what if i fuck it up?"

"oh, honey, you're not -" 

"no, listen. i have a bad fucking track record. and he does too. i'm messed up i have more issues than i can count, and i'm a fucking asshole. it was fine when it was just sex, because that's easy, but now..."

"it's more?" she prompts, gently. jessica's spine curves inwards, and she hates how defeated she looks.

"yeah. he... i don't know, he deserves better."

this, carol won't allow. 

"jessica jones, you stop right fucking there." she stands up, and in two long strides has jessica's face in her hands, foreheads pressed together. she seems to melt into her touch, and she thanks whatever deity is willing to listen that she doesn't pull away.

"you're a good person. no - stop, no! don't give me that look. you are. and if he's dating you, he's the luckiest person on the planet, okay? i mean, you can be quite a bitch," she pauses to laughs at the glare, "but if he's seeing past that? i approve."

"he can't see shit, danvers."

carol snorts, pulling away to prod a finger into jessica's arm, but she catches it, shifting their hands so she can squeeze her fingers, once. 

"but thanks. i... thanks." 

they stay like that for a couple minutes, until carol's stomach growls, effectively breaking the moment and reminding her of the purpose of the visit. 

and for once, their night is spent in relative calm, until some weird tentacle person decides to cause some explosions a few buildings over, and then it's back to business as always.

*

carol learns a couple things about matt murdock in the months that follow. 

one. he has the uncanny ability to take care of jessica jones, something it took carol years to perfect. not that jessica would ever admit that she needs people to take care of her. it's in the fact that her fridge now holds actual food instead of the sad, half empty jar of peanut butter. in the way she broods a little less and smiles a little more. 

two. he is possibly the only person who can keep up with jessica's whit. now that she knows about them, carol drops by to find them together much more often, as if she's finally allowed into the inner sanctum, and she witnesses more than one verbal sparring matches which somehow dub as this weird kind of foreplay that leaves her simultaneously confused and amused. there is talk about fetish gear she doesn't really want to ask about, but matt is the only person who can get jessica to admit defeat, which, in itself, is an accomplishment worth mentioning.

three. jessica only ever listens to him. in all the years they've known each other, carol has never managed to make jess listen to reason, but it seems that one look from a blind guy get her to do so in no time. she'd be jealous if she wasn't so impressed.

and oh. yeah. he's daredevil. 

to be completely fair, she should have put two and two together sooner. but it's not until she and jessica are having a girl's night and he comes crashing through the window, costume and all, that all the gears shift into place.

jessica is, unsurprisingly, unphased. 

"christ, lucifer, do you always have to make an entrance like that?" she's doesn't bother to take her eyes off the screen, while daredevil bleeds on the floor and carol is too dumbfounded to snap into action. then, after the current scene ends, she pauses the movie and stands up, walking over to him and picking him up.

"ouch - sorry... wasn't my fault this time. someone jumped me." he pauses, reconsiders, "multiple... someones."

there is something extremely funny in watching jessica jones carry known vigilante and the devil of hell's kitchen bridal style to the couch, and maybe it's because carol has seen some shit in her life, but she laughs. hard. 

once he's seated, jessica let's her hand hover over his mask until he gives a weak shrug, and then tugs it off. the laughter dies down. 

"i thought you were blind."

"i am," he does give her a sheepish grin which, all things considered, shouldn't be so effective. it's got a boyish quality to it, like a kid who got caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

"then how -?"

"it helps if you think of him as a bat," jessica pipes in, an armload of medical supplies obscuring her smirk, before she drops them all next to the couch. "too bad batman was already trademarked."

maybe matt's glare would have more substance if he wasn't so busy being smitten with her. carol has seen that look a lot - on both of their faces, when they think nobody is paying attention. if she didn't know where to look, she wouldn't be able to pick it up.

"so..  what, echolocation?"

"in a way -" he winces as jessica applies disinfectant to some of the uglier cuts, but she looks like she knows what she's doing. "it's more... i see things differently. using sound and smell and touch."

which... yeah. makes sense about as much as anything weird carol has experienced, so she agrees to be sworn to secrecy, helps patch him up, and then they continue their movie while matt dozes off in jessica's lap. pretty normal for a bunch of superheroes.

a year later, when scott asks her about jessica after a boring meeting which had lasted way too long, carol smiles and shrugs one shoulder.

"oh, she's doing good. guess it just wasn't meant to be," she says, pushing her hands into her pockets, and goes home to prepare for her best friend's wedding.

and maybe they don't have to fake it anymore. maybe, just maybe, they can save the world and the world, in turn, will allow them to be happy. 


End file.
